Page 23 of Blood Slumberm

He wove through the steps she had taught him, watching for each cue her body and aura gave him. The heat of her palm through her glove, the way she leaned into his touch when he put his hand to her waist. The fizz of anxiety inside her.

“Is the Princess of Vengeance nervous?” he asked softly as the dance brought them close.

She lifted her chin. “Of course not.”

“You cannot fool a Hesperine, my dear.”

She glared daggers at him. “If you must know, I am feeling aware of the fact that I haven’t been among this many people in years, either.”

“It’s a shame.” He spun with her. “You deserve to be seen and admired. By the end of this night, everyone in this crowded room will fall at your feet.”

She snorted. “My days of inspiring swoons are quite over.”

“On the contrary, you have only grown more captivating.”

By the time the first dance was through, every curious and conniving noble in the room was ready to pry about the Prince of Clementia’s fortune and claim Princess Aurelia’s hand for a dance. Troi gave evasive answers that fed their imaginations, and Celandine kept her arm twined around his with mysterious smiles. He pressed his hand to the small of her back whenever a young lord’s eyes wandered too far.

She put her mouth close to his ear and held up her fan, letting the onlookers wonder what confidence she whispered to him.“You aren’t so terrible at playing the part of doting husband, slugabed.”

“If you truly want to dance with any of them, I will not hold you back, of course,” Troi murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He had no right to the jealousy gnawing inside him. Celandine missed this life, and he would not ruin her enjoyment of this night. Even if he would rather break the other men’s hands than allow them a chance to touch her.

“I am far more entertained watching you stare daggers at them,” she said with a sly smile.

Her answer soothed something deep inside him.

They escaped the nosy guests as soon as the music began again. Troi claimed her hand for every dance, setting all the tongues wagging about how indecently attached they were for a married couple. He knew he should pay attention, but the gossip faded from his awareness as he grew more and more caught up in the pleasure of dancing with Celandine.

Her anxiety faded as the night wore on. She laughed and smiled, as if coming awake after her own long, arduous sleep. He could feel her spreading her wings and rising into her element.

“If I had been born in another time,” he said, “and known you when you ruled this court, I would have danced with you like this all night.”

“A Taurus and a Pavo could never dance like this.”

“We would have.”

She met his gaze. “Yes. We would have.”

A fanfare interrupted the dancing. They drew to a halt with the rest of the crowd, and Celandine stiffened.

The herald called out, “Rixor IV, Prince of Aligera and Galeo, welcomes you to his house on the blessed occasion of the seventh night of the Summer Solstice festival.”

Their enemy swaggered in, his boots ringing on the tile floor, with his shoulder cape slung behind him and his sword at hisbelt. Troi could see the family resemblance to the Rixor he had known in this man’s high brow and deep-set, arrogant eyes. But more than that, their similarities were blatant in his aura.

The new Rixor’s sense of entitlement coiled around everything his gaze touched, as if he already owned the world and had only to reach out and take another piece of it when it suited him.

Troi knew the type. Whatever depths he had himself descended to, he had never been this far gone. Had he?

Celandine was a nova of anger and hurt and bitterness. They stood there, their years of pain flowing between them, bound together by their unlikely pact.

Rixor made his way through the guests, collecting praise and fear as he went. Troi fortified the veil spells around Celandine as Rixor approached them.

Troi looked into the eyes of Rixor I’s living legacy. For years, Troi and his soldiers had bled to keep Galeo out of the clutches of this family. Now his enemy had ruled it for generations. Troi’s men had died for nothing.

Troi and Rixor bowed to each other, and Celandine dipped a light curtsy, as if they were equals. But Rixor was not even half the man Troi’s soldiers had been.

“Prince Magnus.” Rixor greeted him with a smile that did not reach his eyes. “What an occasion for you to be among us in Corona for the first time. How are you enjoying the city?” He didn’t spare a glance for Celandine, as if she were Troi’s arm decoration and not a person.

Troi had never been adept at putting on a smile for his enemies, but he had learned more than dancing from Celandine. “My wife and I welcome the opportunity to renew past connections.”

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